In John’s Gospel, chapter 20, Mary Magdalene visits the tomb of Jesus only to find it empty.
She immediately runs to tell to the disciples. They come back with her, see the empty tomb, and then return home.
Only Mary stays behind.
She is crying, weeping, when a strange man approaches her and asks her why she is so upset.
She explains that her Lord is missing and she asks the man if he knows where Jesus has been taken.
“Mary,” the man says.
Mary.
Mary.
And in that second Mary sees that the man she has been talking to is Jesus himself, and he is alive. Not a ghost, but a living, breathing, being.
Mary.
She doesn’t recognize him until he says her name.
How many times have we been blind to God? How many times have we failed to recognize Him even when He is standing right beside us?
Last Easter, I walked into Hope for the first time. I remember Mike standing at the door greeting everyone. I remember asking him if all the eggs had been found. I remember that at some point during the service, during one of the songs, I was bouncing up on my toes with what I thought was nerves but turned out to be something else entirely.
Walking into Hope that Easter was a Mary moment for me. Like Mary, I knew God, but it was my first glimpse of a living God. I thought I knew Him, but I know now how blind I was, how I didn’t really understand His presence in my life until I found Hope.
It was like He was calling my name.
And in that call, I saw Him—truly saw Him—for the first time.
I was filled with what seemed like unending joy, the same joy Mary must have felt.
That joy stayed with me for the better part of this last year. Only recently has it taken a bit of beating. I have found myself smiling less. My soul has felt wounded.
Last night, though, during the Easter Vigil, I felt that joy return. The moment Pastor Debbie handed me the Communion wafer, I felt my lips quiver, wanting desperately to smile. And when we sang, I found myself bouncing up and down on my toes. Not nerves at all, but joy, threatening to explode.
It was like I had heard my name again, had heard God call me once again.
He never stops, by the way. He never stops calling our name.
This Easter, today, I was the greeter, welcoming in people who were coming to Hope for the first time as I had last year.
And I was bouncing a little too, rocking back and forth on my feet because I knew, I knew a secret.
Someone was going to walk into that church today and have their life changed as mine had been a year ago.
Someone was going to hear God say their name.
Someone was going to feel that joy for the first time.
Someone’s life was never going to be the same.
